Night Song by Beverly Jenkins

Author:Beverly Jenkins [Jenkins, Beverly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Historical, General, Erotica
ISBN: 9780062319852
Google: eaojAAAAQBAJ
Amazon: 0380776588
Publisher: Avon
Published: 2009-04-28T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Chase had never been a praying man, but on the long train ride North, he sent more than few a prayers heavenward. Sitting in the cattle car because of the fickle Jim Crow laws, Chase refused to listen to the inner voice that whispered Cara might be dead . . . like the child.

The babe would have been the first in his line since slavery to be born free—free to be educated, free to carry a father’s name, free to exercise the right to flourish or fail just like every other American.

He assumed Cara only recently had discovered her pregnancy, and the letter telling him about it was still winding its way to Texas. He would marry her. No question about that. The twin slurs of “slave” and “bastard” would never again be associated with children of the Jefferson lineage. Dwelling on the child’s death moved him to a pain-filled numbness. Nothing in his experience prepared him for the emotional upheaval unleashed by Sophie’s news. He, who’d ridden into bandit nests, faced death many times over on many campaigns, felt overwhelmed by fear at the prospect of Cara’s dying. He hadn’t a qualm about breaking his pledge to leave her alone if ever he returned to Kansas. That seemed like foolishness now—maybe madness. He had to help her regain her health; he had to give her his name.

After leaving the train at Ellis, Chase rode Carolina the last thirty miles to Henry Adams under the rising sun. In the distance, light painted the prairie skyline with fiery pinks and reds. He was too bone-tired to appreciate nature’s canvas. He could barely sit Carolina. However, his strength seemed to return as soon as he reached the outskirts of town, bringing with it a heartfelt certainty that Cara still lived. He had no idea why he felt so confident, but he did; if she were already dead, he’d know.

Asa answered Chase’s summons to the door. They embraced each other, then hurried through to Sophie’s office where she was seated behind her desk sipping coffee. She came hastily to him, and the hug they shared was tight with emotion and pain.

“Chase, oh, thank heaven you’re here. I’m so glad, so glad,” she whispered with tears in her eyes.

“I left Texas as soon as I got word.” Chase saw that she looked more tired—old, really, worn-out—than he’d ever seen her. “How is Cara?”

“She didn’t have a good night, but Doc Johnson is with her now. You can see her when he’s done.”

Chase remembered meeting Johnson the night of the Black Widow’s birthday. “How’d she lose the baby?”

“Nobody’s real sure, but Sheriff Polk says he heard her screaming and when he got to her she was lying”—Sophie’s voice cracked—“on the walk, out cold. Miles Sutton was standing over her.”

Chase went deathly still. “What was he doing there?”

“He was drunk,” Asa said. “He went in to some kind of song and dance about how he’d wanted Miss Cara to help him celebrate a business deal with him, and she fell off his horse.

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